|
| And here as my minde, seising thee, |
| Though it in thee cannot persever. |
| Yet I had rather owner be |
| Of thee one hour, than all else ever. |
|
| Air and Angels. |
|
| Twice or thrice had I loved thee, |
| Before I knew thy face or name; |
| So in a voice, so in a shapeless flame, |
| Angels affect us oft, and worship'd be, |
| Still when, to where thou wert, I came, |
| Some lovely glorious nothing did I see, |
| But since, my soul, whose child love is, |
| Takes limbs of flesh, and else could nothing do, |
| More subtil then the parent is, |
| Love must not be, but take a body too, |
| And therefore what thou wert, and who |
| I bid love ask, and now, |
| That is assume thy body, I allow, |
| And fix it self in thy lips, eyes, and brow. |
|
| Whilst thus to ballast love, I thought, |
| And so more steddily to have gone, |
| With wares which would sink admiration, |
| I saw, I had loves pinnace overfraught; |
| Thy Every hair for love to work upon |
| Is much too much, some fitter must be sought; |
| For, nor in nothing, nor in things |
| Extream, and scattering bright, can love inhere; |
| Then as an Angel, face, and wings |
| Of air, not pure as it, yet pure doth wear, |
| So thy love may be my loves sphear;
|
[CW: Just] |